


Vertically Challenged

by Blue_Blurr



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, Developing Relationship, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, MTMTE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Blurr/pseuds/Blue_Blurr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rung finally has time to himself and decides to organize his Ark collection, but someone has taken the short psychiatrist's step ladder. Fortress Maximus coincidentally went to see Rung anyways, and offers to help the smaller mech. Now if only his spark would stop that annoying fluttering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vertically Challenged

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Transformers, all rights reserved by their appropriate owners.
> 
> I'm so happy, I managed to come up with an idea, write it, and publish it all in one day.

          Rung had lied to Ultra Magnus when he said that he always locked his office; he locked away and his confidential patient information yes, but the office itself was quite literally always open. He figured that the little lie would not upset The Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord too much, but now he was beginning to regret that decision. Someone had taken his step ladder.

            He suspected one of the other shorter bots, like Swerve of Tailgate, and if not one of them, then Whirl, who had unfortunately become the definition of unpredictable. But because Rung had not seen anyone with his ladder, he kept his suspicions to himself. Since he did not know who had his ladder, and therefore could not go ask for it back, Rung was faced with a dilemma: he could no longer reach all of his model Arks.

            The miniature spaceships sat mockingly high up on their designated spots, eliciting a small frown from the psychiatrist. He needed to add his newest additions (get well soon gifts from various mechs, and a few he had found in markets) to his shelves, rearrange them so that they were in the proper sequential order, and dust the ones on the top few shelves. He needed to do it now, while all was quiet and he had no patients, otherwise it’d nag at the back of his processor all day. After briefly checking his newer models over and scanning around his office one last time for anything he could use in lieu of his lost ladder, Rung resigned himself to his fate and took up a feather duster.   

            Scaling the shelves was easier said than done, and after only a few steps up, Rung was shaking and struggling to keep from slipping, but he went on, determined to dust the shelves and update his collection. Another step up granted even less purchase, and the psychiatrist knew he could not hold on for long, but didn’t stop. His feet slipped out from under him before he made it to the next shelf, and down he went with a surprised yelp. The fall was blessedly brief and surprisingly painless, prompting Rung to online his optics in a hurry. Apparently someone had entered his office very quietly, just watching him and waiting. They had been there to catch him when he fell. His optics followed the hands up to stare into the brilliant red optics of Fortress Maximus.

            “M-max!” Rung exclaimed, just now realizing that the tankformer’s hands were on his hip struts, and that he was still several feet from the ground.

            “Yes, Doctor?” he asked, his helm unconsciously tilting ever so slightly to the side.

            “Um, Max, what are you doing?”

            “I was looking for you earlier. But when I found you, you were, uh, climbing your shelving unit. I didn’t want to scare you into falling, so I stayed quiet, but it looks like you fell anyways,” he paused for a moment, deep in thought “Why were you climbing your shelves?” the larger mech spoke with uncharacteristic amounts of honest emotion. Rung was thrilled that Fort Max was opening up to him, and silently urged himself to keep the other mech talking.

            “Someone took my step ladder, I needed to clean the shelves and add my new Arks. I didn’t have anything to stand on so I uh, climbed. It didn’t work, and then you caught me. Thank you, Max.” Rung smiled wide up at Fort Max, and the tankformer responded with a small smile of his own.

            “You’re welcome, Rung. I’m sorry someone took your step ladder, do you want some help?” the warden offered.

            “That’s very sweet of you, but no thank you. I can’t reach, so you’d end up doing most of the work, I’d feel terrible-”

            “I could hold you up, and you could do the work. I wouldn’t mind,” Max cut in. “If you’re comfortable with that, that is.” His optics were wide, and his posture nervous. Rung was unsure why Max was so anxious, but reasoned that by spending time with the other mech, he’d be able to determine why. Maybe he could even get Fort Max to tell him on his own.

            “I’d like that very much, thank you!” Rung flashed Max another smile and the large mech felt his spark flutter a bit.

            The duo worked quietly, making quiet small talk while Rung dusted and adjusted and Fortress Maximus occasionally lifted or lowered the shorter psychiatrist. Every once in a while, Max would gently put Rung down and wait as the orange mech walked over to his desk to grab one of his newer ship models before walking back and motioning for Max to lift him up again. Secretly, Max was paying close attention to what models Rung had, checking them against the one he had got for him, to make sure he had not bought a duplicate. When the last Ark went up Max smiled, realizing that the model he got for the psychiatrist was different than the ones he currently possessed. Rung finished scrutinizing his work and turned to face the tankformer.

            “Smiling because we finished straightening out Rung’s boring old Ark collection?” he joked.

            “Ah, no! You’re not boring, Rung! I was just remembering something,” he quickly countered.

            “Something?” Slag. Now he had to make something up.

            “I saw Rodimus and Drift tinkering with Ultra Magnus’s chair when he walked out of the room to deal with Whirl at Swerve’s again,” it wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t all that funny either. Magnus was going to send a never-ending stream of memos on proper conduct when he found out. The shorter mech ex-vented softly.

            “What am I ever going to do with them?” Fort Max didn’t know how to answer that. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

            “Max?”

            “Yes, Doctor?” his optics met Rung’s own.

            “You said you were looking for me earlier, why?” the question was unexpected. Heat rushed to Max’s faceplates as his optics darted to the floor.

            “I wanted to ask you to go to Swerve’s. W-with me. On a d-date.” His red optics met Rung’s blue ones yet again, and he was awestruck by the small, sweet smile on the psychiatrist’s faceplates.

            “I’d love to, Max.” the warden felt his spark soar. His didn’t see it, but his features were too split by a smile.

            “Tonight?” he questioned.

            “Of course,” Fort Max started towards the door. “But Max,” the mech stopped dead in his tracks.

            “Put me down first?”


End file.
